


Steal my heart and paint it black

by AllumetteRouge (RedRaidingHood)



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Artist!Jason, Blind Date, Conman!Tim, M/M, White Collar-ish AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 02:39:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8233165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedRaidingHood/pseuds/AllumetteRouge
Summary: Instead of planning the next heist, Tim's friend made him go on a blind date.





	

**Author's Note:**

> [Alex](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexicon) prompted me for this one <3  
>  She gave me a few prompts to choose and this is what I went with:  
>   
>  _"Our mutual friend set us up on a blind date and I thought I’d hate it but you’re actually… kind of funny? But because I expected to hate it in no way am I going to let you change my mind just because you’re gorgeous and funny and intelligent oh no my friend is not winning this"_
> 
> Yes, Tim's a conman in this one :D

Cissie King-Jones did not know about his plan to rob the Central City National Museum. Which was also why she had been pestering him about going out and meeting new people. Because Cissie King-Jones was convinced only a healthy, new relationship could get him over Conner. 

It had worked for her, but only after the Olympics. After she had thrown herself into work and aced the archery competition. So Tim kept his mouth shut and bit back any comment that went along the lines of ‘nobody needs love when you love your work’. 

“I’m going to kill her,” Tim muttered when his date entered the coffee shop. 

Blind date or not, Cissie’s description was spot on; the guy’s leather jacket fitting perfectly fine, accentuating his broad shoulders. Shoulders Tim could vividly imagine clinging to. 

Okay, yeah, maybe Tim had a thing for guys in leather jackets. And dark hair and strong jawlines. And those hands that would settle on the small of his back, pushing and guiding him closer until he only needed to stand one his toes, leaning up to reach those unfairly attractive lips.

“Aw, shit.” Jup, maybe he wasn’t over Conner as much as he had been telling everyone.

Tall, dark and handsome came to stand in front of him, a nervous smile on his face. “Are you, um.”

“Alvin Draper.”

The guy grinned, sitting down and already leaning over the table. “Donna’s friend.”

“Actually,” Tim corrected, “I’m Cissie’s friend. Who asked our mutual friend Cassie, who’s Donna’s sister.”

“I’m Jason.” 

He didn’t have time for this. He had a heist to plan and, after Conner, his usual crew laid low. It was supposed to a be a simple three-man job, but without a master forger, the whole thing would blow up in his face.

“So, Alvin. What are you doing if you’re not on a date?”

Right, and there was Jason, of course. Tim took a long sip of his coffee, trying to decide how to best get rid of him. The guy seemed nice enough, maybe he’d get the hint and back off.

“Not much.”

Jason hummed, blowing on his drink. And damn did he smell good. Tim had missed this. The smell of warm coffee while he was wrapped in soft, warm leather. 

“I’m an artist,” Jason stated, not looking up from his cup.

“And I’m Benjamin Franklin.”

“No really.” Chuckling, he sat the cup down, looking Tim straight in the eye. “I don’t have an atelier or something like that, but I know a really nice, old lady who lets me work in her garage. She gives art lessons at this evening school and I help her out in return.”

Jason seemed to like talking about this, his eyes sparkling and the corners of his mouth tugging up. So Tim needed to trip him up.

“Are they drawing nudes?” Tim grinned into his drink, leering at Jason.

Stuttering, the man broke eye-contact, his cheeks growing undeniably red. He really needed to work on his poker face. “Sometimes.” Jason cringed but he kept his arms open on the table. “I mostly restore or copy these days. You can’t really make money with original work anymore.”

“Interesting.” It really was, though Tim kept his sudden curiosity for himself, still not wanting to give in. Cissie couldn’t have known about him needing – well, not an artist as such, but a copyist? That wasn’t such a bad start. There were others, though. Maybe better, definitely more experienced. 

Sighing, Jason gulped down his drink, pushing his cup aside with an air of finality. “Look, let’s get this straight.” 

Tim tensed up. His intuition was what had kept him alive all this time and right now, this guy was setting off all his fight or flight instincts. Usually, he opted for flight. Jason stared at him, though, pinning him in place with a look that had Tim melt. Oh, this wasn’t good. Not good at all.

“Donna said you’ve recently had a bad breakup and I don’t like to be the rebound guy, but she made me promise to give you a chance. I can’t do that if you’re not into this, Alvin.”

He sounded sad. He really did and Tim didn’t want that. He had liked that happy expression Jason had had when he had spoken about his work. 

“Are you good at your job?” he countered.

“The modeling?” 

This time, it was Tim’s turn to blush as Jason gave him a smug grin, gesturing down to his body. Tim had meant for that topic to make Jason uneasy, not for this masterpiece to be used against him. 

“The, um, painting stuff,” he stuttered. The last time he’d stuttered, he had been talking with Kon. 

“I don’t just paint,” Jason hummed. “What about you?”

“I’d love to see your work.”

The man’s eyes went wide, his voice rising to a slightly higher note. “Really?” 

Taking a moment for introspection, Tim realized, that, yes, really. He wanted to see Jason’s work. With a life like Tim’s, a lot depended on intuition, deflection and diversion. He was good at conning people, had an eye for valuables and their real worth. And Jason was definitely worth… something.

“Yeah, really.”

Leaning on his arms, Jason smiled excitedly. “I have a Degas at my place that needed some brushing up if you’re interested?”

Tim blinked, not knowing if it was the shock of Jason keeping an actual Degas _in a garage_ or his genuine joy making the words spill from his mouth. “You have a what?!”

“A Degas.” Jason pulled keys from his pocket, already half-standing. “Come on, they pick it up in an hour and I want you to see it in the right lightening.”

“A Degas,” Tim repeated, obviously dumbfounded. But he stood, taking Jason’s hand as the artist pulled him out of the coffee shop. 

He still needed to find someone for the museum job, Tim realized holding on to Jason on his bike. But Cissie couldn’t have known. She couldn’t have known who Tim was looking for, but she definitely knew his type.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really enjoying White Collar right now and who doesn't like conmen?!  
> But hey, anyway! I do hope you liked it, and thank you for reading <3 Let me know what you think?  
> Here's my [tumblr](http://allumetterouge.tumblr.com) if you feel like it ;D


End file.
